


a field of red tulips (and other flowers too)

by insteadofjust_invisible



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Background Elippo, Co-workers, Language of Flowers, M/M, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insteadofjust_invisible/pseuds/insteadofjust_invisible
Summary: "Blue salvias meant ‘I’m thinking of you’, but did Nico know that? If he did, did he mean it?Marti kept the flower. He held it all the way home so the petals remained intact and, once there, searched through a bunch of cabinets before finding a small enough vase for him to be able to keep it on his desk in his room. He was glad his mom was not home yet, or she would be having all kinds of questions about why he had brought a flower from the shop back home. "or a nicotino flower shop au
Relationships: Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	a field of red tulips (and other flowers too)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi, let me just start by saying I don't know anything about the language of flowers, so everything in here is information I took from Google, sorry if any of it is not accurate.
> 
> I finished this fic I little while ago and I wasn't super satisfied with how it turned out, but I miss Skam Italia and I feel like the fandom is dwindling with every passing day, so I in honor of it being 2 years since season 2, I dediced to publish it anyways. Hope you guys enjoy it!

“Oh, these are just lovely, thank you so much my dear!”

The old lady buying the bouquet of orchids for her graduating grandkid patted him on the cheek in that caring way old ladies do, her smile emphasizing the wrinkles around her eyes. Martino looked down as he mumbled a ‘you’re welcome’ in return and made quick work of giving back her change and receipt, waving her out with a smile of his own and well-wishes.

Marti had never thought he would end up a florist. After graduating high school, he started med school with Sana and Eva and while he was still doing that, he knew he would probably never practice after graduation. The thing was, when his aunt had fallen ill and suddenly needed someone to help her out at the flower shop, his mom had lent his hand and he had liked it. He liked it so much that Zia Bene left the shop for him after she died and he just kept going with it, kept it open and running and thriving, really. His mom would help whenever, his other aunt too, they had hired a kid fresh out of high school who was taking a year off to help in the morning and Fede to help in the afternoon, and they were set.

That is, until Fede got off the waitlist to spend the semester abroad in France and they were one person short with basically no notice. Marti didn’t blame Fede, of course. She was off chasing her dreams or whatever, but suddenly it was February and he was swarming in school work already and having to work extra shifts at the shop on top of that. He had been interviewing people left and right, but either their available hours didn’t match or they were just plain stupid and seemingly incapable of understanding that selling flowers was more than just, you know, putting a bunch of flowers together and wrapping a bow around them. Flowers had meaning, different flowers served different purposes, and florists sometimes dabbled as therapists for people with broken hearts, people who had just lost a loved one, people who were trying to save hopeless relationships, people who were trying to woo someone (Marti hated those. It had nothing to do with him being single, despite what Eva would say, he just didn’t believe flowers, of all things, could be the difference between getting someone to fall in love with you or not).

In the end, it was Sana who came to his rescue. A friend of hers, of her brother really, was looking for a job and she thought he would fit right in at the shop. ‘Nico, do you remember him? You’ve met a few times at my house.’ Marti didn’t remember. He didn’t think they had met either, because he was sure he would remember a guy like Niccolò, who was, well, the textbook definition of a Roman god - Marti had seen beautiful men before, ok, his last boyfriend was not too bad on the eyes himself, but Nico? He was otherworldly. Almost ethereal. But that might have been the sunlight shining right on him through the half-closed blinds of the door window too, like he had purposefully chosen that exact time and that exact spot to stand and introduce himself to Martino with a gummy smile and a cheerful ‘I’m Nico! Sana’s friend?’

At least, Marti thought, he didn’t drop the textbook he was supposedly studying from or said something utterly embarrassing like how he was imagining how Nico would look like on his bed. Then, maybe that would have been better than just staying silent, which was what he did. For long enough that Nico’s smile dropped and he raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “you’re Martino, no?”

“No. I mean, yes! That’s me. You’re here for your interview?” If Marti could facepalm himself without embarrassing him any further, he would, because what on Earth was going on with him?! Nico didn’t seem to think anything was wrong though, or he was just used to people reacting like that to meeting him, because he smiled again, this time accompanied by a short laugh and a very endearing head bob.

Endearing. If at first glance Niccolò was the textbook definition of a Roman god, at a closer examination he was the dictionary definition of endearing, which was an odd juxtaposition, if you asked Marti, but that fit him very well. Throughout the whole interview, which at some point became a conversation between friends, Martino couldn’t help but find himself distracted by something Nico had done - the way he had rested his head on his hands to hear Marti tell him the story of the shop, the way his skin would crinkle just slightly around his eyes when he smiled too big, the way his hands felt just a little too cold when they shook hands before Nico had left, a rough schedule hastily written down on the back of some wrapping paper and Marti’s number saved on his phone as ‘Marti flower shop.’

When Sana asked him about the interview the next morning, in-between classes when they were cramming in some studying, he knew she knew. She laughed, but didn't deny. If anything, she admitted, which, well, Sana had eyes too, and she knew Marti’s taste in guys. So he let it go, rolled his eyes at her and ventured their conversation back to the endocrinology notes in front of them. Her smile, however, stayed on her face all day long, nagging at Mati like there was something else there, something he had no idea what it could be.

Nico started four days after his interview. He arrived early, turning around the corner at the same time Marti was crossing the street, and waved hello with a bright smile. Marti returned with a wave of his own, thinking maybe he should have scheduled Nico to start when his mom or his aunt would be there so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself like he had at the interview, because somehow Nico was looking like he was about to walk down the runaway, not start a job at a flower shop in a neighborhood mostly comprised of old people (his address was nearby too, wasn’t it? Maybe he lived with his parents still, even if he had made it sound otherwise. Not that Marti had paid any attention to the address he had put in his application, not at all.)

They ended up making it through the first day just fine, neither making too much of a fool of themselves, no major accidents or mishaps. Nico quickly learned how to work the register, fill in the tally, where the crafts were stored, listening to everything with attentive ears, but when it came time for Marti to give a brief explanation on the meanings of flowers, Nico’s eager curiosity took him by surprise - most of the time, he was the one to arrange the bouquets for customers who wanted specific messages to be said, but he still gave an overview of it to his employees, just in case.

“I even bought a book about it!” Nico mentioned, elbows coming up to rest against the balcony as his hands drew meaningless patterns on the glass. Marti shot him an unimpressed gaze, almost like a warning for the other boy that he didn’t need to try that hard, but he simply smiled in response, all teeth and gummies showing, making that same head bobbing gesture Marti had found so endearing the other day (and that day too, but he was definitely not going to get caught up on that, especially if that was a mannerism of Nico. He was just going to have to get used to it, no matter how much his heart fluttered at it.)

“See, I pass by this used bookstore on my way home? I decided to just take a look the other day, but they had this one book on the meaning of flowers full of scribbles the previous owner left in it that I had to buy.”

“You should bring it over then, I’d love to take a look at it.”

“I will! Maybe you can compare to your aunt’s notes,” he gestured to the many sheets on the balcony that Marti was just showing him, full of his aunt’s annotations, different bouquets designs, and even a set of rules for the shop.

The rest of the afternoon went by surprisingly fast, Marti and Nico easily settling into a rhythm together, managing the customers and the shop in perfect synchrony. Martino could only hope this was how it was always going to be.

It was.

Nico was the perfect employee. He always greeted the customers with a smile, was properly courteous and kind and willing to put up with small talk in a way that Marti himself had never quite managed, his humor too witty to use around them, his grumpiness often coming off as impolite. All that obviously meant that everyone was absolutely enamored by Nico from the get go - Marti’s mom, his aunt, Lucchino, for fuck’s sake. Martino too, not that he would admit it to anyone, not even himself, but his favorite days were now the ones when he and Nico were both scheduled to work the afternoon.

Until it wasn’t.

The first time Nico missed work was three months in, on a gloomy Thursday afternoon in which they were unlikely to have that many customers anyways, but he simply didn’t say anything - no texts, no calls, no warning through Sana, no nothing. Marti was worried, at first, thinking something must have happened, an emergency of sorts, but then his ‘friend texts’ went by unanswered too, not just his ‘boss texts’, and he got mad, because while he had never been sure whether Nico was flirting with him or not, he wasn’t unsure about whether they were friends or not. They were. They talked outside of work, occasionally went out for a drink or two, and generally just knew what was going on in each other’s lives, thus why Martino was so confused and angry at the fact that Nico suddenly dropped off the face of Earth on a Thursday afternoon he was supposed to come in, with no warning or excuses or apologies, before or after. 

The next day, Martino asked Sana about it and she scrunched her eyebrows, seemingly worried, but just for a second, before offering him a small smile and saying that it was probably nothing, Nico would probably reply soon, but she could check in with the boys if he wanted? Marti huffed, replied that no, that wasn’t needed, thank you very much, but then he found himself worried too, on top of everything else, probably nitpicking Sana’s reaction, but it was just too much, he had hired Nico so he wouldn’t have problems with the store, yet there he was. Not that there were any problems with the store itself, per say, they were actually problems in Marti’s personal life and his apparent inability to separate work from it.

Sana asked the boys, anyways, because she knew Martino. She texted him over the weekend saying she was right, as usual, but for him to please hear Nico out once he reached out. Marti wasn’t so sure he would reach and, quite honestly, was already planning on looking for someone else to fill in his spot, but he did, he reached out on the following Tuesday, halfway through the afternoon (the afternoon he was supposed to be working too, but Marti had gotten his aunt to fill in) in the form of a series of texts that Marti couldn’t really make sense of, despite them being seemingly so simple. The regret was obvious, some sort of apprehension too, but what else?

**Nico**

_I’m sorry_

_Can we talk?_

_I can come over after you close tonight_

_I really am sorry, Marti :(_

**You**

_ok, I will be waiting._

Marti didn’t want to admit that the typed sad face was what broke him, but it was and he did admit it, long into their conversation, half making fun of Nico for it, half confessing he had found it cute, which was when Nico made a confession of his own, admitting to still having an old brick Nokia. Marti laughed out loud at that, earning a small smile back and a warm feeling on his chest.

The beginning of their conversation wasn’t as lighthearted as the end, unfortunately, but nonetheless expected. Nico had come in just after Marti had closed the last sale of the day, waving the customer goodbye as the other boy stepped aside to let her through while he held the door open. He was looking at the general area behind the cashier, where Marti was standing, but not at Martino himself directly. When the door closed shut and the bell rang, Nico turned the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed,” but made no other movements or sounds. Martino cleared his throat then, just trying to fill in the awkward silence that had settled, the type of silence they had never shared since Nico had started working at the shop.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology came quietly, almost inaudible, right after a heavy breath that clenched Marti’s heart. Sure, he didn’t want to fire Nico, it was probably going to be a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation for both, but why did he seem so… afraid? As it was, Marti sighed, sitting on the little stol they kept behind the balcony, and brushed it off.

“It’s ok,” he said, waving off his hand. A short break, furrowed in brows, before Marti hesitantly continued, “are _you_?”

“It’s not ok, Marti.”

“It’s not the end of the world, though. I’d have appreciated a text or whatever. You got me worried, Ni.”

Nico's head dropped down, his chin touching his chest, and Marti’s fingers flinched by his side. He wished he was better at comforting people, but that had always been Gio’s job, not his. He sighed again. He might not have much experience on the whole running a business thing, but he was sure firing conversations usually didn’t go like this.

“I’m… better,” Nico finally gave in, glancing at him minutely before dropping his head down again. His fingers fumbled with the ends of his sweater.

“Good. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, no. Marti, I really am sorry.”

“I got that and I said it’s ok, Ni. It’s not like it’s going to happen again, right?”

At that, Nico closed his eyes shut and suddenly their conversation started to feel much heavier than Marti thought it was - was being, was supposed to be... Nico breathed in, shoulders moving up and down while his hands kept fumbling with his sweater. He stepped closer to the balcony, leaving it as the only barrier between him and Marti, and tried to say something once, twice, but couldn’t get it out.

“What’s going on, Nico? I’m getting worried.”

“The thing is… this might happen again?” Marti furrowed his eyebrows, which seemed to be a theme for the conversation, getting more confused and more worried by the second, “see, I, uh… I didn’t expect to have to tell you this, which was really stupid of my part-”

“Nico?”

“Yes,” Marti felt conflicted, unconsciously having moved a hand to rest on Nico’s shoulder to try and offer some comfort, but halfway through the movement, his hand just dropped. He didn’t know if Nico wanted to be comforted, he didn’t know what to make of this whole situation, so he waited, “ok, I...” another deep, shaky breath in, then all too fast, as if it was all a single word “… I have Borderline Personality Disorder.”

Marti waited for a second, but Nico didn't elaborate. He had heard about it before, had briefly studied it in his Intro to Psychology class, but he didn’t know much about it, much less about how it affected Nico personally.

“I know I’m fired, but I think you deserve to know why I just disappeared on you like that. I… I’d like to stay friends?”

“You’re not fired though.” Marti wasn’t aware he had made that decision, but he had, probably the moment he had seen Nico walk in with his head down and shoulders drawn in, repeating apologies after apologies. 

“No?”

“No, but I’d appreciate a heads up if you ever need time off again,” Nico smiled for the first time since he had come in, bright like the sun, “and if we are going to stay friends, at least a thumbs up emoji to let me know you’re alive.”

“I will try my best to reply, but I can’t guarantee a thumbs emoji. Or any emoji.”

At that, Nico took his phone off his pocket, an old blue brick Nokia, and Marti had no idea how he had never realized Nico owned such a phone before. He couldn’t help but gape at it, shaking his finger at Nico when he remembered his earlier texts.

“That explains the typed-in sad face!”

Nico laughed, and it seemed like a major weight had been taken off his back. He mentioned how he had tried to have a smartphone like every other person their age during high school, but ended up going back to the old Nokia after no time at all. The conversation continued, Marti brewed some tea and they didn't leave the shop until their stomachs started growling, demanding more than the sole croissant they were able to buy from the cafe next door before it had closed a few hours before. They parted ways with Marti promising to next Nico from there on like a 13 year old who only knew how to use emojis to communicate, so that all he would receive was a bunch of empty boxes, to which he replied by flipping him off, but there was no bite to it. All his friends made fun of him for his Nokia, and he was glad to have Marti do it as well.

Nico came back to work a few days after their talk. He was quieter, more subdued, cracking less jokes with Marti and reserving most of his smiles to the customers, but he was there and that was what mattered, right? Marti had tried to keep the Contrabbandieri from visiting too much on Nico’s return, but ended up completely forgetting to give Filo the same warning, mostly because he never visited Marti during work, claiming his own house was already a flower shop and he didn’t need any more plants around him. But call it fate or whatever you believe in, of course that meant that Filippo had to come by a few days after Nico was back to work to beg Martino to help him find another orchid that looked just like Ele’s did before she had left to go visit Edoardo in Bologna.

“How did you manage to kill an orchid?!”

“I don’t know, ok, Ele said I didn’t need to give it much attention, but I guess I gave it no attention at all? Please, help me Rose, you know how Ele is with her plants.”

Martino saw rather than heard Nico’s confusion, saw him stopping on his tracks on the other end of the store, mouthing the word rose, looking quizzingly at the, surprise, surprise, rose he had been cutting for a bouquet. When he looked up at Marti, the glint on his eyes that had been missing for the past week was there again, a small smile on his lips as he raised the rose up to the other boy, eyebrows wiggling. Marti laughed, more to himself than to Nico, having completely forgotten Filo was right there in front of him.

“Oh c’mon, don’t laugh at me. It has been ages since I last killed one of her plants!”

“Yeah, yeah. If memory serves me right, last time I spent the night you completely smashed one of Ele’s vases, the one with the spider plant? I spent hours repotting it in the morning.”

“But that didn’t kill the plant! In fact, Ele should have thanked me for having upped the plant’s quality of life by giving her a more beautiful vase. A more beautiful, very expensive vase.”

“Pff, Ele should be thanking me for doing all the repotting and making sure her plant didn’t in fact die.”

“Not to mention it was all justified, I was giving a killing redemption of Breaking Free.”

“If you say so,” was Marti's reply, sarcasm dripping strong, their bickering never stopping completely as he helped the blue haired boy find a new orchid, but that was just how his friendship with Filo was. Deep down he knew he sounded like a 5 year old who had had his candy stolen away, complaining the entire time, and maybe he should have tried to look more professional in front of Nico, or maybe just less of an asshole, but Filippo didn’t bat an eye, bit back with the same venom, and when Marti mentioned he could be losing a hundred clients with the time he was taking with him, he simply looked around the empty store and raised his eyebrow.

“Also, I bet cute boy over there is more successful with the old ladies that come here than you are, Rose.”

Marti tried to be mad at him, he did, but when Nico broke out in full laughter at that, he softened up immediately and settled for giving Filo the finger, along with a ‘never come back here ever again!’ to which the other boy responded with an ‘I love you’ that made Nico smile again, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes as before.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Marti,” he mentioned, not looking up from the flowers he was now watering by the window display.

“I don’t?”

Filippo started laughing seconds before Nico pointed to him with his thumb, Marti’s eyes widening almost comically when he connected it.

“Oh no no no no!! He’s Elia’s boyfriend, Nico, Elia!!!” Nico was laughing again then, at the apparent absurdity of his assumption, at Marti’s horror, at Filo’s grabby hands and the kisses he kept sending Martino, choking in between laughs that Rose wished she could tap that, but he wasn’t into redheads. The redhead in question looked like a deer caught in headlights, looking bewildered at the two laughing boys. Nico tried to apologize, but failed at doing so when he couldn’t stop laughing.

Filippo finally left, shaking his head and quickly hugging Marti before he grabbed the new orchid and headed towards the door. He gave Nico a head nod and a ‘see you later’ that was easily parroted back at him. Once the door closed behind Filo, the air felt much lighter than it had been before his visit, and for that, at least, Marti was glad.

“I can’t believe you seriously thought Filo and I were a thing.”

Nico raised his hands up in defense, as if to ask how could a guy know, and Marti finally gave a laugh at the whole situation, if anything just to show Nico he was not mad, he just had never pegged himself as the type of guy who would get together with someone like Filippo, but then again, Elia was one of his best friends, they had the same hobbies and friends and was it that much of a surprise, really? 

“Don’t get me wrong, Filo is a great guy, but he is not really my type.”

“Gotcha. What is your type then?”

Marti didn’t know if Nico actually expected an answer, but he pondered before he replied, “I never put much thought into it, but I guess someone a little less out there, like, Filo talks a whole lot all the time and he is always out and about and _God,_ that must be tiring. And not just his personality, but his looks too. He can pull it off, but I don’t know. Less egoistic too? Oh my God please don’t tell Filo I said that.”

Nico smiled to himself, humming like he agreed with Marti, who didn’t give much thought to the imaginary boyfriend he had just described.

Four days later, when Elia came by, Nico started laughing on the spot and Marti was forced to explain the whole scene from Monday to him. True to their friendship, he was on the verge of disgust, but this time because his boyfriend had better taste than that, “c’mon Nico, between Marti and I, who would he fuck?”

Marti freezed at the question, Nico didn’t miss a beat: “Marti.”

Silence followed, and after a few minutes Elia fake coughed and left, saying that was his cue. He did shout that the boys were all going for beers later on though, for them to join. Apparently, that had been the sole reason behind his visit after all. The rest of the afternoon went by just slightly so awkward. With half an hour to go before closing, Martino couldn’t take it anymore.

“Thank you for feeding into his stupidity, but seriously, you could have just said you were straight. That’s how Elia used to answer before he came out too.”

“But I am not?”

“Oh.”

“I’m pan.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool.”

“Yeah, pretty cool if I can say so myself.” Marti chuckled at that and Nico shook his head at him, going back to cleaning the table where we had just finished working on an arrangement. The awkwardness they had been basking in before was almost gone, in fact, it might have been just Marti who was still feeling it, in the form of a little voice on the back of his head that kept asking ‘did Nico really meant it?’

By the end of the day, he was pretty sure he had indeed meant it. Taking on Elia’s invite, Nico tagged along Marti for drinks with the boys. It was not the first time he did so either, he had gone once or twice before his episode, but this time instead of going straight there with Marti after they close the store, he mentioned needing to do a quick run home before meeting them there.

“So you thought Filo would go as low as dating Martino, uh?” Elia asked the second Nico had joined them at the bar, causing him to stumble on his feet and almost spill his drink. Gio was quick enough to grab it and place it on the top of the table as he carefully sat down, fist bumping him in thanks. Martino, however, glared at Elia, not feeling like having Gio and Luchino make fun of him for the whole situation, especially because he knew they would make fun of him, not Elia or Filo. Go figure.

“In my defense, I also thought he was dating Giovanni the first time I met him.”

“Pff, Marti wishes!!” Gio exclaimed, patting Marti hard on the back, whose hands went up to cover his face.

“There’s not a day I don’t regret telling you about that.”

“Ahhh Marti, but then how would we make fun of you?” Gio joked, clearly basking in the situation. He had never let Marti live down the fact he had had a crush on his best friend and would probably never do so. Neither would any of their friends, really.

“Unless you want us to use other stuff for that too, like…” Elia started, because why would you trust your friends to keep up your cool personna in front of the guy you have a crush on?

“Oh, I know! Remember that time in Bracciano when-”

Marti kicked Luca, who shut up immediately as he mimicked zipping his mouth shut. Elia flicked him in the head as everyone else laughed, even Marti, as much as he tried not to. The conversation moved on then, to the band playing live by the corner and how the Contrabbandieri di Porri were better than them. Then they had to go on and explain to Nico who the Contrabbandieri di Porri - and the many other names they frequently rotated through - were, which led to all of them reminiscing about their school days.

“I take you had a crush on Gio?” Nico whispered after a while, scooting in closer to Marti, their shoulders pressing against one another.

“That’s an understatement. You could say he was my gay awakening when we were teenagers.”

Marti confessed, a bit too tipsy by then to really ponder his words. He still studied Nico’s response carefully, only slightly ashamed by how both of them gave Gio a look over. Nico whistled under his breath in admiration, turning his head slightly towards Marti then so he could keep on whispering to him.

“I can see why. But just between the two of us, he is not the most beautiful man in this table.” Marti choked on air, quickly grabbing for his drink to try and make up for it, but it’s all too obvious. Nico just smiled at him though, taking a sip of his own drink before moving back to rest against his chair and rejoin the conversation with the rest of the boys.

Days go by and Nico slowly started to resemble the guy Marti had first met. He was more cheerful, more outgoing, Marti even goes back to wondering if he was flirting with him in between jokes and laughs, especially when he thinks back to that night on the bar with the rest of the Contrabbandieri. Flirting or no flirting going on (would that ever be answered?), soon enough it almost felt like nothing had happened. It was during one of those days in which Nico was all smiles, humming an upbeat song as he and Marti worked on a big order for an event they were supplying the flowers for in two days, that Nico got his first visit.

Marti had heard about Nico’s friends before, both from him and from Sana. He knew Sana’s brother, Rami, and her boyfriend, Malik, from hanging out with her, had seen them in passing and even hung out with them by extension sometimes, but he had never met Driss or Luai before and, he had to say, he was surprised when he saw the latter interact with Nico because, well, Nico had a boyfriend?!

He didn’t know why he was surprised, really. Nico was beautiful, nice, polite, he was very dedicated and passionate about his studies in music, it was no wonder he had someone. People like him tend to have someone, actually. The problem was just that Marti had seriously considered Nico had been flirting with him and he was starting to flirt back, because why not? So it hurt a little, even though he had no reason for that. He tried to hide it, but Marti was a bit stubborn, Eva says he was downright a dickhead, really, thus he ended up giving Nico a cold shoulder for the rest of the afternoon after his friends had left and, well, maybe for the next few days too. Unintentionally, of course.

Nico was confused, to say the least. He kept trying to engage Marti in conversation but received short answer after short answer, clearly deflating as the hours and days went by. By the end of the week, Nico was much more withdrawn, only talking to Marti about work and even going as far as keeping himself from humming songs, which Marti missed more than he had expected. He felt like an asshole, but he was too proud to say anything, and he didn’t really know how to go about it either, so he ended up going around it and inviting Nico for drinks with the Contrabbandieri. Again. In retrospect, he should’ve thought about how the last time had gone and how he tends to lose his filter whenever they go out, but that was thinking too far in advance and Marti was solely focused on fixing this awkward situation he had put them in.

Nico was surprised. He stopped what he was doing and took a full minute to reply, asking “you are inviting me to go with you?”

“Yeah, we are going to that bar in Trastevere if you’re up for that.”

“I… yeah, sure,” he said, a little quiet, but he gave Marti a smile that made him believe everything was going to be ok.

By the time Marti and Nico finally made it to the bar, it was clear the rest of the Contrabbandieri had been there for a while now, both by their state, leaning more towards tipsy than not, and the amount of glasses on the table.

Elia ordered a round of shots for everyone plus an extra for Marti and Nico each so they could catch up, as he put it. Nico was not drinking though, so Marti drowned his’ as well, definitely on the road to catch up with the boys after three shots straight. He ordered a beer after that, planning on nursing it for the rest of the night, but ended up ordering a second beer, then a third, then he was way past tipsy and lost count. He also loses his filter.

“I didn’t know you and Luai were dating. Malik and Rami are always going Luai’s boyfriend this, Luai’s boyfriend that…”

“Yeah, that’s because Luai and I are not together.”

“No?” Nico shook his head to confirm, clearly amused, “but earlier this week, when they visited you…”

“Earlier this week my friends visited me at work. Like the guys visit you, or Filippo does.”

Marti facepalmed then, thinking back to a few weeks ago when Nico had thought Filo and him were a couple, “oh my God, this is another Filo situation, isn’t it?”

“If it makes you feel better, Luai and I did date in the past.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better.”

Nico laughed at that, seemingly pleased with the idea. Marti basked in the idea that his jealousy had paid off, even though he also knew he should have learned his lesson long ago that jealousy was not the way to go. The night dwindles down quickly after that, the boys filling out one by one until it was just Marti and Nico, who apparently had, at some point, promised Gio that he would walk their friend back.

“C’mon, for me to keep my job I need my boss alive, don’t I?”

The walk home, well, to Marti’s home, was quiet. They walked side by side, arms brushing ever so slightly, a ghost of a touch between their hands every now and then. Marti kept his gaze straight ahead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other without stumbling too much, while Nico constantly looked over at him, unashamedly. They walked past a warehouse where Nico claims he used to practice water polo when he was younger (“I was the water polo champion, Marti!”) past the empty pool to where Marti used to come with Gio and Elia during high school to skate and smoke, exchanging stories and memories but quickly returning to the silence they had started with. It was not awkward though, and Marti basked in it, the breeze messing with his locks that had been growing to be almost as long as he had it back in high school. He felt blissful, like the night sky carried with it a realm of planets and stars and galaxies he and Nico could explore, and he could only hope Nico felt the same. He thought he deserved to.

Nico dropped him at his door safe and sound with a soft good night and a smile that reached his eyes and the stars and Marti must have still been drunk to be poetizing so much about the stars. He murmured his own good night to the other boy, demanding a text once he got back himself. He got it, when he could barely keep his eyes open anymore, teeth brushed and long clad in his pajamas.

**Nico**

_I’m home_

_good night, Marti <3 _

**You**

򪪪

One day in mid June, Marti wook up to a text from Nico sent in the middle of the night saying he didn’t know if he would be able to come in that day. Marti reassured him that it was fine, for him not to worry and take care, but when 2pm came around, there was Nico, opening the door to the shop and shuffling in quickly. He halfheartedly waved to Marti, but the usual smile or the glint of the eyes that accompanied his greetings were not there. Nor were they there through the rest of his shift, no jokes, barely any words being spoken at all. Marti decided to keep him working on orders by the corner to try and make it easier for him, turned on a playlist filled with songs that Eva liked - that was, songs he hoped were soothing and soft and perfect to fill the mind without crowding yours thoughts - and let him be. He couldn’t help but worry though and he was sure that it showed, especially when during a particularly quiet moment in the afternoon, after he had send off a guy just about their ages with a bouquet of blue hyacinths to go apologize to his girlfriend, that his thoughts went somewhere he probably ought to have had thought about before but for some reason hadn’t: Nico had always been so cheerful and bright, he had never showed up for his shifts like today, and honestly, sometimes Marti found all that cheerfulness a bit, well, annoying, because how could that guy not have any bad days or days when you just wake up feeling like that the world was pulling a huge prank on you and you can’t, for the life of you, be casually nice with the people around you and yourself. Now he knew he had had, of course, in more ways than Marti could probably think of, but he had never let it show. Until that day.

“Hey, Ni… can I ask you a question?” Nico looked up to him, slightly alarmed, but nodded, so Marti continued, “I- before… you never showed up like this?”

“Oh. Yeah, I, uh, I just tried really hard not to let it show because I didn’t want to tell you the truth.” His voice was quiet, the words tripping on each other as he confessed. Marti felt his heart clench on his chest, so he made a split second decision, hoping Nico would take what he was about to say the way he meant it.

“You wanna know a secret? I found you a bit annoying then, always so chirp and sunny.”

He did. His frown broke into a smile and Marti broke into a celebration - in his head. In reality, he bit on his lips as he continued to study Nico, trying to decide how he could, _should_ play this further.

“I was thinking, we should go watch a movie after we close today.”

“We do?”

“Yes, and you are obliged to come. It was in your contract, ‘if I ever lie to my boss’” he pointed to himself as he said that, as if Nico needed any reminders, “‘I must go watch a movie with him as an apology.’” 

“Oh, was it? If that’s the case…”

They both smiled at each other, Nico shaking his head a bit, like he couldn’t believe in the boy in front of him, but Marti didn’t quite believe himself either, so they left it at that. The rest of the afternoon was still quiet, yet not as stifling as before. The same couldn’t be said of the weather, unfortunately, the unusually warm spring day growing hotter and hotter until a storm broke just before the store’s closing time. Marti was bummed, thinking this was the perfect excuse for Nico to bail out on him, but he was pleasantly surprised when he offered for them to take their movie night to his living room.

So that was where they ended up. At Nico’s apartment, which looked like a very old couple’s apartment, full of flowers and frills, excessive decor and an honestly terrifying collection of marionetes.

“What do you think?” Nico asked, both of them standing in the middle of the living room, shedding off their jackets and shoes. Marti tried to school his expression, planned to let out a noncommittal hum so he didn’t have to say much, but his face betrayed him by turning into a scold that made Nico laugh. “It was my grandma’s. She left it for me after she died and I finally managed to convince mum and dad to let me move here.”

“Did she leave it to you as a museum?”

“Ha ha, very funny Marti, making fun of my poor old dead grandma...”

Marti let Nico choose the movie, in part because he was doing this for him, in part because he didn’t really care for movies and had been planning on choosing whichever one would be starting soon at the theater. Nico choses a pretentious French movie that Marti couldn’t pronounce the title of and sent him into a fit of laughter when he tried. He also tried to pretend Nico’s laughing was hurting his feelings, but failed miserably at that given he couldn’t stop smiling.

They made dinner after the movie was over. Well, Nico attempted to try and make dinner, as Marti wanted nothing to do with the disgusting pasta he claimed was the English way of making carbonara. He couldn’t even name all the flavors he tasted, but he was pretty sure there was some honey in there, honey! On top of God knows what else. They ended up ordering Chinese food they ate straight out of the containers, sitting side-by-side on the floor in front of the coffee table because, apparently, Nico’s grandma’s dining table was never meant to be used as a ping pong table, a story that amused Marti to no end, and they started a second movie in the meantime, but barely paid attention to that one, a faux-pretentious romantic comedy with an unreasonable cast of beautiful people. Instead, they talked and talked and talked while the rain didn’t stop. In fact, it seemed to keep growing stronger and stronger, now followed by bolts of lightning and thunder and gusts of wind that rattled the windows.

“I’m afraid of what is gonna come after graduation, you know. I took a gap year after high school, but I don’t think my parents are going to appreciate their 23 year old taking a gap year.”

“That’s what Eva says too. Given, she didn’t take a gap year, but she doesn’t even know why she got into medicine and now she’s worried she’s going to have to fake it her whole life. You know, fake it till you make it, but without the making it part.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, why did you get into medicine?”

“Oh, I don’t know either. I- Gio thinks I went for it because of my mom and my aunt, but I don’t know, Eva and Sana were doing it, it seemed interesting enough… What made you decide to study music?”

“I almost didn’t graduate. I had my first episode in my last year, it was big and messy and left me completely lost, but the guys helped me, and my girlfriend at the time too, Maddi. I was pretty much done with school then, but I have always been good at music, you know? So I thought why not. I figured it would ease my parents minds too.”

“They worry?”

Nico raised his shoulders in an ‘I don’t know’, ‘it’s whatever’ gesture. They move on to talk about less serious things.

…

They were sitting at the couch now, sprawled one on each end with a cigarette tray in between for the blunt they were sharing.

“If you could hop on a plane right now and go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Hmm… Norway.”

“Norway?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause.”

…

“Favorite food?”

“Carbonara.”

Nico raised his hands like he was celebrating a goal and started giggling immediately after Marti shot him an unimpressed look.

“I bet I can whip up something truly horrific next time we hang out.”

“That was not horrific enough for you?” Nico just shook his head, biting on his lips and looking like an excitable puppy, “what is then?”

“Hmm… blueberry and bacon muffins!” Marti’s eyes widened in shock before he quickly closed them shut, like he was trying to forget that image as Nico continued, with a shit-eating grin that indicated nothing good could come from what he was about to say, “no no, a cheesy toast with pickles, mustard, ketchup… and whipped cream!”

Marti pretended to be gagging, sending both of them into laughter. He also made a note to always be the one in charge of the kitchen in the future.

...

“What’s your favorite show?”

“The Last Man on Earth. Basically, it’s the story of this guy that finds himself being the last man on earth for no apparent reason- 

“Like 28 Days Later?”

“No no, this one doesn’t have zombies, it’s funny. I mean, he’s a dickhead who fills up a pool with vodka and other weird shit, and then he finds out he’s not the last man on earth because there’s also a girl… you’ll see.”

...

“What would you do?” Marti looked up at him, stopping halfway through rolling them a second joint. He made a little huh sound, head turning to the side. Nico clarified, “If you were the last man on earth?”

“First, I’d go to the Vatican to fuck some shit up there in the Pope’s chambers… Use his toilet!”

“Ok…”

“Or maybe I’d go to the Olympic Stadium and play the best 1 on 1 of your life. What would you do?”

“I would run around… naked,” Nico started, raising his eyebrows suggestively before continuing, “go to Corso street, Cola di Rienzo street, go window shopping without anyone bothering us. Stuff like that.”

“And then?”

“And then… I would have to go Fiumicino-

“To Fiumicino?”

“To Fiumicino… to fly a plane!”

“In that case I think I’d really be the last man on earth.” Nico swat a hand at him, laughing more than he probably would had he been more sober.

“Asshole. I’d watch a ton of tutorials on Youtube on how to fly a plane.”

“Ahh but there’s no electricity in the show.”

“No electricity?”

“No.”

“Ah… what about animals?”

“Maybe they went extinct. Why?”

“Because in that case I’d go to the zoo and I’d get a giraffe to be my personal horse.”

“Why would you ever ride a giraffe?”

“I don’t know.”

...

“What’s up?”

“Nah, nothing… This whole talk made me a little sad.”

“Is it the giraffe?” Marti joked, not wanting to dampen the mood. The whole point of that night was to cheer Nico up, after all. However many jokes it took.

“No,” Nico gave, looking up to the ceiling as he scrunched his eyes and thought, “it’s just these things really freak me out.”

“Are you hypochondriac?”

“No, it’s not that kind of fear, it’s not like a horror movie type of fear, it’s… I don’t know… the idea of being left alone… It’s that kind of fear, I think. You get that?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” he agreed, carefully, trying to figure out how to express what he was thinking, “but... you don’t look lonely.”

Nico nodded imperceptibly, almost as if he hadn’t meant to do so, and Marti wanted more than anything to caress his face, place a hand on his shoulder… He held back.

“Being among people all the time doesn’t mean you’re not lonely. It’s your mind that feels lonely.”

“Meaning what?”

“People talk to you but you don’t really care about what they’re saying and end up closing yourself off. You isolate yourself. For example… you might be at a party with 50 people around and you’re standing there feeling lonely. So you panic and, sometimes, it feels like you can’t even breathe.”

Marti knew he should say something, but he didn’t think there was anything he could say to Nico that would make sense or would make either of them feel better, so he simply continued to stare at the other boy, his heart clenching on his chest, his hands coming to hold each other in his lap so he didn’t reach over like he so badly wanted. He could only hope the sound of the rain and their slow breathing would fill in the silence.

...

“You should stay over tonight. I don’t need _you_ calling in sick at work tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to impose. I can see if I can get an Uber.”

“I doubt you will find any in this neighborhood, at this hour, with this weather. Just stay, Marti.”

Marti stayed. He slept on the surprisingly comfortable couch, but he still woke up to a sleepy, shirtless Nico, complete with moussed hair and a soft red spot on his left cheek from where he had been laying on the pillow, handing him a steaming cup of coffee as he settled on the chair by the couch. His good morning wish got interrupted by a yawn that all but sent Marti’s brain into short-circuit. That entire scene didn’t leave Marti’s mind for weeks.

After their movie night, things shifted ever so slightly. For one, there was not a day Marti and Nico didn’t talk, be it in person because Nico was scheduled in - which he started to be more often, now that they were on their summer break from uni and the other guy that helped Marti quit to backpack through Asia -, be it through text whenever they weren’t together. They started to hang out more often too, grabbing lunch together before they came in for an afternoon at the shop, a coffee after they had closed, movie nights or going out for drinks at the end of the week. 

Then, one day, almost six months after Nico had started working at the shop, there was a karaoke party at Silvia’s house. It was supposed to be a Radio Oswaldo reunion, a group which Nico was ecstatic to find out Marti was a part of (a “I knew you were a total nerd in school, you were part of the radio, Marti!” said with a smile so big Marti doesn’t have the heart to refute. Lately, he had been letting a lot of Nico’s jabs at him pass unchallenged, a fact that had not escaped Giovanni’s attention, but his remarks Marti had no problems with being a little shit about), but somehow Nico ended up being there, something to do with Sana taking Malik and her brother wanting to come too, which obviously meant Luai, Driss and Nico would also come. Marti spent a second too long worrying about his friends meeting Nico’s friends, but of course they got along like a house on fire - he could just hope they didn’t play on starting any real fires.

Gio and Elia sang the Contrabbandieri di Porri best - and only - original song, to which the girls decide to do a redemption of, followed by Nico’s friends, because Rami insisted he was the more musically inclined in his family (he was not. Not that Sana was _that_ much better. Marti was pretty sure his ears started ringing on their own at some point and it was not because they were singing too close to the microphone), then Luca and Silvia sang a ballad Marti didn’t know the name of but that made him want to puke, and the girls took the microphone again to sing a nostalgic version of Bello e Impossibile and that was when Marti decided to go hide in a corner, sitting at the couch by the window, much like he used to when Silvia would throw these parties back in their high school years. That was also where Nico found him, holding two cans of beers and with a blunt carefully placed behind his right ear. They spent the rest of the night there, talking and drinking and smoking. Nico tried to get him to go sing with him for a while, but gave back after the first hour went by and Marti hadn’t bulged at all, claiming he was a boring gay and earning a halfhearted slap against his chest. He didn’t say it as if it was a bad thing though.

They stayed until the party was pretty much over, getting roped into helping Silvia and the girls clean everything up, chosen to take the trash outside. That led them outside and never back in, the minute they had taken to take a breath after carrying the spilling over bags turning into two minutes, then three, then they were resting against the closed dumpsters and returning to the conversation they were having before the cleaning started. 

“You played celtic music when you took over your school?” Nico nodded, clearly proud of that - playing celtic music or taking over his school, Marti wasn’t so sure, so he knew he had the perfect material for making fun of the other boy. “That doesn’t screen ‘look, I’m a rebel! It sounds… boring? Like something that puts you to sleep.”

“You clearly have never heard celtic music before.”

“Ok, so how is celtic music like then?”

“Don’t you know? Boring and it puts you to sleep.” Marti gave him the finger, but there was no bite in it, as both of them smiled in complicity “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“Lately I have been listening to a lot of Jamie XX.”

“Ok…”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, not bad, but, well-” “Well, it’s not celtic music, but-” 

Nico and Marti spoke at the same time, cutting each other off, both failing to finish their sentences when they started laughing. Marti signaled for Nico to continue.

“It’s not like I only listen to celtic music.”

“What kind of music do you listen to then?” he asked, fully turning to face the other boy.

“Do you know Earl Sweatshirt?” Nico’s eyes shined as he spoke, and Marti found himself pretending he had actually heard of this Earl Sweatshirt.

“Yeah, I have heard something.”

“Are you serious?” the other boy asked, leaning toward him slightly in his excitement, “he’s like the craziest, most cursed rapper. For no reason at all he left the group with Tyler the Creator to go solo and his mother, who is like this lawyer from California, sent him to this sort of recovery prison for two years in Samoa.”

“His mother is crazy too, no?”

“No one is sane there, dude.”

It seemed the conversation was about to die out, so Marti tried to get his brain to think of something else other than how adorable Nico’s smile was (and how hot he looked in the sleeveless shirt he was wearing to fit Silvia’s late 90’s aesthetics), but the other boy was quicker: “Do you know the hashtag #freeEarl?”

“Well, now that you are making me think of it, I’ve heard it… #freeEarl.” Marti shook his finger in front of him like he was actually remembering the hashtag #freeEarl - he was not - and Nico clearly saw through him. 

“Ok, here, let me show you something of his,” he said, motioning to Marti’s phone that was resting in between them. Marti nodded him on and Nico quickly pulled up the browser to search for a song he didn’t let the other boy see. He then placed the phone back on the dumpster, screen down, already moving his head to the rhythm of the song that had just started playing.

Marti hadn’t noticed, but they had moved closer together, Nico’s shoulder was slightly pressing against his own and their hands were mere centimeters from touching. If he sat the tiny bit more uptight so their shoulders pressed more closely together, no one needed to know. The song Nico was showing him died out and silence fell on them. Marti didn’t know what to say, instead he just looked up to the other boy, who handed his phone back without breaking eye contact. Marti did though, to place his phone back in his pocket, but when he looked back up, Nico was still staring at him, a million different expressions playing on a loop in his eyes, his mouth starting to turn up in a smirk that suddenly made Marti realize how close they actually were and how this all looked like, so he snapped his eyes closed and turned his face forward, unconsciously letting a relieved breath out. Nico faced forward too, smirking because he knew what was going through Martino’s mind, so he decided to keep playing, but more subtly so: he brushed his pinky against Marti’s, just barely there the first time, and when the other boy didn’t respond in any way, he repeated the movement, a bit more insisting, once, twice, until Marti opened his eyes and glanced down, a small smile forming on his lips. It took a minute, but he finally looked at Nico again, eyes studying him closely and, when Nico inches them closer, he didn’t seem to mind it this time. In fact, he moved closer himself and Nico did too, smiling, and then both of them were leaning in closer and closer and closer togeth-

Marti’s phone started ringing. He muttered a curse under his breath as he scrambled to move away and pick the phone up and take the call. They were still close though, so Nico heard Marti’s aunt on the other side of the line apologizing that they had sprung a last minute meeting on her at work and could he possibly find someone to help out at the shop the next morning? Nico immediately volunteered, high on what had just happened. Marti smiled at him, all bright and grateful, and Nico couldn’t care less that he would have to bail on his friends to fill in for Martino’s aunt.

Once Marti ended the call, he took a deep breath in and out before looking at Nico, but no matter what both boys wished for, the moment was over. With a last shared smile, they headed back inside Silvia’s house.

For the remaining of the night and the morning after, there was no mention of their almost kiss whatsoever. They interacted like they always did, exchanging small talk while there were clients in the shop, shared jokes and jabs at each other when they were alone. Nico made sure to play some Earl Sweatshirt for them at some point and they spent the next hour after that alternating between songs, from their favorite singers at first to the most ridiculous songs they could think of after a while. Their fun was cut short when Nico suddenly stopped and asked if it was ok with Marti if he left a bit earlier, he was supposed to have lunch with his parents and he didn’t want to be late. Marti agreed, but he felt ever so self-conscious about it, thinking he might have joked too far even if Nico had clearly been playing the game as well. 

The last half an hour before he could close the shop was quiet, with no customers in sight. He went through the motions of closing the till and the blinds, flipping the ‘Closed’ sign on the door and locking it from the inside absentmindedly, so much in fact that when he went to fetch his things before leaving, he had to stop, look around and back at his Pathophysiology book, where a blue salvia was laying. Deep down, he knew Nico was the only one who could have left it there, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it had been on purpose… Blue salvias meant ‘I’m thinking of you’, but did Nico know that? If he did, did he mean it?

Marti kept the flower. He held it all the way home so the petals remained intact and, once there, searched through a bunch of cabinets before finding a small enough vase for him to be able to keep it on his desk in his room. He was glad his mom was not home yet, or she would be having all kinds of questions about why he had brought a flower from the shop back home. 

It happens again. Right when the first flower was starting to die, a new one popped up, poking out of the pocket of the jacket he had left hanging behind the door of the staff room. This time it was a yellow tulip, usually given to compliment someone’s smile (more specifically, ‘your smile is like the sunshine.’) Marti kept that one too, held it all the way home and placed it in the vase on his desk, changing the water and cutting the stem so it fit perfectly.

And it happened again and again and again. It was a blue hydrangea, in appreciation for being understood, then a red daisy, saying ‘you’re beautiful’, then a pink camellia, longing for someone. Sometimes a combination of two flowers, like the day he found a lily of the valley and a daffodil, both flowers used to indicate happiness. There were repeats too, he got another blue salvia about two and a half weeks after he had first found one, and he found another red daisy, that time alongside white and pink ones, spelling ‘I only have eyes for you(r beauty),’ the closest ever to an outright love declaration. Marti didn’t mention it and neither did Nico.

A month and a half after Nico first started leaving him flowers, Marti responded with a flower of his own. He placed his flower on Nico’s sketchbook, the one that had been peeking out of his backpack, pressed the stem inside and let the flower hang from it, like a bookmark. He asked Nico if he would be ok with closing the shop, there was a spare key on the register he could use and just give back on his next shift, giving the excuse that the quarterfinals for the neighborhood football championship had been moved up and the guys would eat him alive if he was late. Nico saw right through him, of course he did, but he agreed, all too happy for someone who would be having to stay over.

There was indeed a quarterfinals game, but the Contrabbandieri’s team hadn’t made it that far. Marti still went, he needed the distraction or else he would go insane thinking he had misread everything Nico had been trying to say in the past weeks. Not that the game helped much, his anxiousness clear in the way he couldn’t stop shaking his legs and checking his phone every other second.

“What’s up, Marti?”

As expected, Gio was the first to notice and ask him about it, but Marti just shook his head to say it was nothing, they should just watch the game, and he tried to control his legs and put his phone inside his backpack too so that he wouldn’t keep looking at it. Either way, Nico had probably closed the shop for close to half an hour and nothing. Maybe he hadn’t seen the flower? Maybe he had pushed his sketchbook back into his bag without looking, or maybe it had fallen to the floor and he threw it away thinking it was leftovers from a bouquet?

He gave in after seven minutes and grabbed his phone again, letting out a frustrated sigh once he saw there were no new notifications. There was a hand on his leg too, holding it still, before Gio asked again, more firmly this time.

“Ok, zi, seriously, what is going on?”

“No Gio, he has finally declared his undying love for Nico and he’s not replying. I’m right, aren’t I, Marti?”

Elia was clearly joking, the boys had been egging him on about his crush on Nico for over a month already, but once they took in Marti’s grimace and his silence, that was enough of an answer. The rest of the Contrabbandieri howlered and patted him on the back, Elia threw his hands in the air and shouted a ‘finally!” that made half of the stands turn towards them, until Luca interrupted the party to point towards a small but very important detail.

“He hasn’t said anything back, Marti, for real?”

“Yes, well, no. He started leaving me flowers a month or so ago, ok? Like, different flowers pointing towards him being into me or whatever, so I finally decided to respond today, hid a jonquil in his things, the same way he does, and asked him to close the shop so I wouldn’t be there when he found it.”

The screaming started again, with Giovanni claiming he was stupid, Elia asking if they really were talking through flowers, what the fuck, to which he received a flick on the back of his head, - “they work at a flower shop, dumbass” - Luca saying that was so clever.

“What do you even expect him to say back? Shouldn’t you expect another flower tomorrow?” Gio eventually asked and, sure, that made sense, but it was not like Marti was going to give in.

“We don’t open tomorrow, it’s Sunday.”

All of them rolled their eyes at him, knowing him all too well to understand what he was really saying underneath the sarcasm, and Elia even conceded, “on Monday then,” he said.

“I don’t know!”

Marti hadn’t even realized he was mad about this all. Confused, sure, a little hurt, yes, but mad? His outburst seemed to do it though. There was a moment during which no one said anything and Marti knew it was because Gio and Elia were exchanging those worried glances between them they always seem to do whenever something concerned Marti, before they all, Luca included, started to talk at the same time about how Nico didn’t know what he was missing on, for him not to worry, that there were plenty of other fish in the sea for him to fish and a bunch of other shit that while Marti knew was well-intentioned, didn’t really do much to lift his spirits. At least they didn’t complain about his grumpiness for the rest of the game.

The reply did come, eventually, late that night, when Marti had been getting ready for bed. 

**Nico**

_We are going on a trip tomorrow_

_You and I_

_I will pick you up at 9am?_

**You**

_ok…_

_Can I know where we are going?_

**Nico**

_Nope, it’s a surprise_

_But don’t worry, Marti!_

_It’s going to be fun :)_

Marti went to sleep equal parts excited and, well, terrified. He was simply going to pretend he hadn’t done - said - anything until Nico did so first, that was it.

Nico texted him at 9am sharp to let him know he was downstairs waiting. He greeted Marti with a bright smile, a bag of croissants and a thermos with coffee. No mention of the jonquil Marti had left him the day before. Worse than that, however, was that Nico refused to let him know where they were going that required a car - _“since when do you drive, Ni? Can I see your license? Just to make sure… I’m too young to di- OUCH!”_ -, no matter how much Marti pestered him. 

They drove.

And drove.

And drove.

At one point, past the second hour in the car, Marti sort of lost track of where they were, leaving him even more confused about where they could possibly be going. All he knew - guessed - was that they were heading towards the countryside, endless fields of green and blue skies all around them. 

They eventually came to a stop roughly after three hours of driving, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Marti was more than confused by then, trying to look up where exactly they were on his phone and what there could possibly be there for them to do. He was so entranced on his phone that he didn’t notice that Nico had already gotten out of the car, circled back to his door, and opened it for him.

“Let’s go?”

Marti jumped at that, his phone dropping from his hands onto the pavement outside. Nico laughed, picked it up for him, and quivered one eyebrow as he moved his head to tell him again to come on. He did.

They walked five or so minutes downhill from where Nico had parked, towards a field of green that became more and more colorful as they approached.

“A field of flowers.”

Nico didn’t say anything back, not that he needed it, as it was obvious that’s what it was. He simply continued to lead them on until they were walking through the flowers, making their way past the strip of purple poppies up towards the tulips. Nico suddenly stopped then, patting his pockets in search of something.

“Hey, I think I forgot my phone on the car, I will be right back.”

Nico left no time for Marti to reply, already walking off towards where he had parked, and Marti was left alone in the middle of the tulip field. He placed his hands on his pockets, started rocking back and forth on his feet so he wouldn’t start pacing, turning his head to look around him.

There weren’t many people around. There was a young couple to his left that glanced at him in a sort of funny way, probably wondering what he was doing there all alone, so he gave them an angry sort of smile as if to ask ‘what the fuck are you staring at?’, causing them to immediately turn to face the other direction. There was also a family a little behind the couple, a mom, a dad and two kids, all wearing matching clothes and talking animatedly among themselves. They didn’t notice Marti at all. The only other people were an old couple almost at the end of the field, so far that he could barely see them. That was how Nico found him when he came back, people watching, gaze unwavering on him as he walked back, one hand behind his back like he was holding - hiding - something and a shit-eating grin that confirmed that he was indeed hiding something.

“So…” he started, moving the hand that was at his side to his back and coming back with an iris that he promptly gave Marti. The other boy looked at it confusedly, eyes moving up and down between the flower now in his hands and Nico, “I have a message for you…”

Oh. Yes, of course. An iris, a message. Marti nodded, feeling the blood rushing towards his cheeks, which caused Nico to let out a small chuckle. He continued though, but instead of saying more, he moved his free hand back behind his back, grabbing a gloxinia. _It was love at first sight for me._

Oh. _Oh._

Nico smiled, bouncing on his toes a little, and went to grab another flower from behind his back. A red camellia. _My destiny is in your hands_. Marti barely had time to process that one before another flower was thrusted at him, a mistletoe. He shook his head and looked up, finding Nico glancing at him from under his eyelashes and biting on his lips.

“Of course I want to kiss you.”

Who surged forward first, who kissed who first, they would never know, but the important part was that they were kissing, lips on lips, moving gently against one another.

Once they broke apart, they didn’t move apart. They kept their foreheads together, Marti playing with Nico’s hair as Nico played with the ends of Marti’s sweater, just like he tended to do with his own when he was nervous. They were smiling too, laughing, when Marti pulled Nico against him in a tight hug. That was when he realized, truly realized, where they were standing.

In the middle of a flower field.

A field of red tulips.

A declaration of love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't be shy and let's talk, just leave a comment or come say hi on [my tumblr!](https://aspeckof-stardust.tumblr.com/)


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